The Signs of Images

Photographic images always signal a certain moment in the past. Upon seeing the image, we reflect on our knowledge of the past. Therefore, the image is not only an evidence of time, but also a representation of reality that constantly reproduces itself. The meaning of the image is a continuous process that develops with different gazes.

The title of this exhibition by Alexvi, “Three Di-distances" refers to both the division of content within the exhibition space and the three kinds of distance between the images and the viewers. The identity and otherness amongst these three distances are intertwined in the exhibition, as a performance of memory and as a reflection on contemporary culture.

Signs of Darkness:

We could say that every image has its own internal source of light, whether Altamira's cave paintings or photographs. Light suggests the presence of the Other by its absence and establishes a path, either direct or circuitous, to the substance of the image. The "Back to Black" series is a series of portraits of figures suspended in a black vacuum, in which celebrities, in various poses, are slowly disappearing from light into darkness; or, conversely, emerging from endless depths. The glamour and vibrancy of the silver screen are absent in the black and white photographs, but through careful makeup and gestures, each subject still exudes a compelling charm. Some look directly at the viewer, expecting a meeting of the eyes; others perform in front of the camera, like a Greek sculpture by Pheidias, emulating "the greatness of silence.”

Under these gazes, the absent entity is none other than the viewer. The more real the image appears to be, the more it is essentially a distortion of the real world. This distorted orientation is symptomatic of the author's position. In the atmosphere of blackness, these images are not only flat posters on the wall, but also a seductive, deep space that invites the viewer to participate and complete the objectscape. Here, the artist and the curator emphasize the presence of the black, forcing the viewer to transform these "Sunya" objects into tunnels into which they can disappear, blurring the distinction between sacred iconography and the idols of the consumer age. The light seems to come from outside the painting, and as Foucault says of Manet’s paintings, "it is the viewer's gaze that illuminates the interior of the painting.”

Signs of Privacy:

The gaze of celebrities follow into the second section of the exhibition, "Peking Apartments.” The space is cramped, and the bodies of young girls are squeezed against each other. It is as if only under the tension of this scale that the dark side of youthful glamour can be spoken of—with a sigh. The apartment is supposed to be a private domain, housing the thoughts and secrets of life; but Alexvi was invited by his subjects to enter. Thus, inside the apartment—originally the antithesis of the workplace—the relationship between the photographer and the models is revived. They continue to talk in a formal, professional way, while the images become a window through which the viewers survey a private sphere. The complex directionality within the images complicates: to the local audience, the young models are the Other from a foreign land, but they are facing the camera in their Beijing room, in the midst of life and survival.

In this group of works, Alexvi has perhaps consciously chosen as few compositions with windows as possible; even the few windows that do exist do not point to actual content. The view of the windows is filled, instead, by the blackness that appeared in the previous section of the exhibition. These black blocks catapult the viewer's emotions from the reverie that has yet to occur back into the reality of this space. The images in this exhibition are, on the one hand, windows to the world and, on the other hand, walls where the will of the author has congealed.

Signs of Space:

In the third space, the viewer steps from the last room into the open city, which seems to usher in the liberation of the body. The ontology of vision itself is illusory in the post-industrial era, and people are always struggling between their real senses and their unconscious desires. If we still believe that images are a kind of proof, and realize that the truth can be transactional, then the only possible tool we have to organize this syndrome into some kind of thinking order is the experience of living in the city. "Lonely Planet" is the hidden side of the individual's mind that Alexvi excavates from all corners of the world to record. Levi-Strauss reminds us that "truth is revealed from the hidden mind,” but contemporary life seems to be another layer of gray mantle of truth. Our skepticism about images today comes from our lack of confidence in urban life. Yesterday is in the past, but tomorrow is fickle and ungraspable. As such, people record and excavate fleeting moments, day or night, to try to reconstruct their own sense of existence.

Urban life is inseparable from the smartphone. It is not only a device, but also a black hole or negative space that contains everything from the past and the future. Rather than saying people are good at recording with the phone camera, it can also be said that the phone is seducing the owner of this electronic organ. Bodily perception acts in the present moment not only between the body and the surrounding space, but also through all the objects that the body touches—turning to the objects into organs, while being consciously impacted by the objects. In this light, the subject and object have thus become one. In the "Lonely Planet" series, the flatness of the cell phone image also deepens this understanding. It is as if the human being is not standing in a three-dimensional spatial structure, but is forcibly placed flat in a two-dimensional image. This imaging regime smoothes out the different elements and functions in the original images, and the emotional opposition of the visual objects gives way to a bland detachment between the people and the city. Only the light still faintly hints at the resemblance between the image and the real world.

In the world of images, or visual culture, there are always invisible things that are disappearing or being reawakened. The three spatial dimensions of the body in "Three Di-distances“ form different impressions on the viewer, which are mapped onto the three image perspectives of Alexvi's own observation of the world today, and are extended and recalled in the viewer's spirit and will.

You Yang
Deputy Director, UCCA Center for Contemporary Art
Art Director, UCCA Lab

“Three Distances” is not Three Exhibitions

The solo exhibition by Alexvi, entitled "Three Distances,” gestures towards three layers of meaning.

The first is the three series of works by Aelxvi in recent years on view at this exhibition; the second is the three exhibitions contained independently within; thirdly, the exhibition is an exploration of the three kinds of relationships between photography and human beings— subjective-medium-objective—and three ways of viewing—gazing-glancing-peeping—through the changes in the layers of the photographer's visual expression. We hope that this exhibition will serve asAlexvi’s tribute to the photography tradition and share in his respect for the lived experiences of his subjects as individuals, while reflecting the philosophy behind his artistic practice. Above all, we hope that this exhibition will showcase Alexvi's ever-renewing and unabated desire for expression and creativity.

Three years ago, Alexvi showed me partial work samplesfrom these three groups of works. They were independent of each other, yet interrelated, hinting towards a hidden logic behind his photography. His personal artistic exploration and his everyday photographic work have gone hand in hand in the past years for Alexvi. Are the photographs on view in this exhibition results of his personal exploration or “by-products” of his daily work? Personally, I believe it is the former. Perhaps through the title of the exhibition itself,Alexvi is hinting at the real metaphor behind his thinking: the “back” in “Back to Black.” If his everyday studio work can be understood as a kind of going “forward,” then, I have always felt a sense of tension and scale between the “forward” and “back” of his personal creative projects and his everyday work, as well as a mirroring relationship between the two. When this "forward" and "backward" coincide, they form a closed loop, and wherein Alexvi finds a natural and logicalcoherence within his daily work and his creative projects. 

As the saying goes, “Whatever will be, will be.” If we take a step back and survey art history, how many artistshave spent their lives trying to find consistency and systematization in the relationship between their daily work life and their personal creative work? Alexvi has been fortunate enough to discover the key to hispractice and build a method and expression for his work.In this regard, in my view, "Three Distances" is not three exhibitions, but three paths for decipheringthe inner creative wiring and thought processes behind the photographer Alexvi.

Cai Meng